


Foreseeable Future

by Foophile



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Community: rounds_of_kink, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pre-Canon, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-03
Updated: 2008-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-10 14:50:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foophile/pseuds/Foophile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lincoln might as well brand him and make it official.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foreseeable Future

They were supposed to meet after work….

Michael slammed the stairway door, taking the steps three at a time while checking the messages on his cell phone.

“Damn,” he muttered when he saw that he’d missed a call. He was running late. Not too late but late enough to startle the security guard when he burst through to the parking lot level.

The hurried hush of his breath as he jogged to his car almost drowned out the sound of the message running through his earpiece. Lincoln’s voice, his first rueful syllable, had Michael’s stomach sinking to his feet.

“Look, Mike, I know we said we would meet tonight but Lisa called and I gotta go to some thing at LJ’s school. A play or something. LJ told her that I promised him I would go. Hell, I might have but I don’t remember,” Lincoln’s recorded sigh matched Michael’s own and his voice turned tender. “Rain check? You know I’ll make it up to you baby.” There was a yelled voice in the background, the ringing pulsations of a jackhammer that placed his brother at work, and then Lincoln clearing his throat, speaking louder over the cacophony. “Just call me later. We’ll work out some other time.”

By the time the message was over Michael had slowed to a dejected amble. He flopped his coat and suitcase onto the roof of his car and told himself that he shouldn’t be so crushed over the news. It was just another day that their busy lives failed to intersect. Just as they had for the past month of days.

Over the sprawling cityscape lightning flashed and thunder rolled in on its heels. Michael thought the stormy clouds overhead perfectly fit his mood.

-

He’d done it again.

Michael stared blearily at the glaring red LED displaying the time then startled into full consciousness.

“Mother-,” he cut off the curse as he grabbed for his phone and flipped it open. There were no calls, and he muttered angrily as he pressed speed dial and sat through two full minutes of unanswered ringing.

Michael didn’t bother to leave a message. He knew why there was no response and he didn’t want to apologize yet again for falling asleep when he’d said he would come to Lincoln’s apartment.

Michael decided Lincoln was being a child and turned off his cell phone. It was too late, or rather too early, to go anywhere but his bedroom.

The past week had been flooded with huge projects at work and instead of being understanding, Lincoln demanded that Michael come over while he took care of his son in Lisa’s temporary absence. Making no promises, Michael hadn’t left work before eight in the evening since Monday and once he went home fielded conference calls over the adjustments made during the day from his firm’s affiliates overseas.

This night would be the third where Michael had succumbed to exhaustion at his drafting table.

As usual Lincoln thought that Michael would just rearrange his life to fit in his brother.

He could almost hear the older man in his head asking _what life_ in that penetrating, infuriating, dark voice.

“Asshole,” he muttered to an imaginary Lincoln. He pulled at the loose knot of his tie and plucked at the buttons of his dress shirt, shedding them haphazardly in his wake. He rested his useless cell phone on his bedside table while he took off the rest of his clothes and slipped between chilled cotton sheets.

Running his hand over the smooth hair on his chest, Michael closed his eyes, reached over to blindly flip open the clamshell, and pressed the power button on the right.

The automated chimes of his service provider followed him back into sleep. _One missed message._

-

Michael’s keys clanged into the bowl set next to the door specifically for that purpose and his recessed lights brightened as he turned up the dimmer.

Lincoln sat on his couch, drinking a beer.

Michael blinked, only momentarily thwarted from slipping his jacket off his shoulders. He continued into his loft, setting his briefcase on the kitchen table and rolling his suitcase across the room to rest against his bedroom door jamb.

“I hope there’s a full case in the fridge when I look,” Michael said finally. Lincoln could go an entire day without saying a word; Michael had witnessed it.

“I’ve only had one,” Lincoln replied before taking another sip. Michael watched the man lick his lips like he was drinking honey and turned away suddenly parched.

There were a few moments of heavy silence where Michael busied himself with checking the overstock of his mail before his brother spoke again.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving for business?”

“I didn’t realize I had to clear it with you first,” Michael said flatly.

“I had to call your work. I thought something had happened to you.”

Michael slapped the mail carelessly to a side table. “It was barely a week. You’ve been gone for longer.”

Lincoln glared across the dim living room. “You’ve always known where.”

“Yeah, I have,” Michael tipped up his chin. “At least my business was legal.”

Lincoln came to his feet like he was preparing for war, filling up the room with his presence. Michael swallowed, reacting before he’d even had the chance to stop, to remember that Lincoln had no power over him. Lincoln couldn’t control Michael’s actions, and he was probably the last person Michael would ask for pardon. He’d done nothing wrong.

His brother advanced until they were toe-to-toe. His dark eyes bore into Michael’s, hard but simmering. “It’s been two months.”

Michael nodded stiffly, his neck aching with tension. “It’s been busy.”

Lincoln stared at Michael’s mouth. “We’re not busy right now.”

Michael shook his head and crossed the short distance between them to kiss Lincoln. He was tired of waiting and fooling himself. Lincoln might as well brand him and make it official.

Hot and wet and perfect, Lincoln’s mouth tasted like hops and raw wanting. A groan broke free from Michael’s chest, sounding more desperate in the air than Michael had ever thought possible. Lincoln showed his own need through his lashing tongue, his calloused fingers clutching at Michael’s body.

Focused and wild, they both tore at each others clothing, limbs catching and pulling on fabric, the loud hiss of ripping seams intermittently filling the air.

Michael sucked his brother’s breath from his lungs, consumed it and opened his mouth wide to be consumed. Cold air whipped around his hips and thighs as he was stripped.

His feet went where Lincoln led them and when he tripped over his suitcase he felt buoyed only by the hands on waist, sliding down to cup his ass and press him into his brother’s smooth skin. Lincoln’s cock was a hard match to his own, angry and red with waiting.

His heart was beating out of his chest, pounding like an elephant’s footsteps, when Lincoln pulled back.

“If you wanted my attention,” his brother said, “you’ve got it.”

Lincoln palmed his cock and balls tight before he let go.

Michael growled, “I just wanted you.”

“You’ve always had that.” Lincoln bit divots down his neck.

They both crawled onto Michael’s cold bed like ungainly children. They kissed and wrestled until Lincoln earned his place on top, Michael parting his legs as if to welcome him home.

Lincoln pushed Michael’s knees up and teased his ass with a dry finger. “I should make you wait for my cock.”

“No!” Michael shouted, quickly turning red at his outburst. Lincoln chuckled and opened Michael’s bedside table for the lube.

“You want it that bad?”

Michael glared, tucking feet into Lincoln’s armpits. “You don’t?” He fisted his cock and was pleased to see his brother hesitate at the sight.

Then Lincoln was palming his own cock, slicking it with lube, and lifting Michael’s legs up onto his shoulders.

Michael braced but there was nothing to prepare him for the burning hot pain-pleasure of Lincoln’s entrance. Everything went red for a second, too much and too hard and choking in its intensity, and then Michael felt Lincoln cup his cheek, kiss his gasping mouth with soft surety, and he felt the past two months slough from his bones like oil on metal.

Lincoln’s cock had stilled in his ass, filling him but doing nothing more, and after the pain dulled to an ache Michael cracked open an eye to glance at his brother.

Lincoln’s grin was strained but arrogant. “You made me wait.”

“I think the waiting was mutual,” Michael mumbled, squirming a bit.

“I slept on your couch.” Still Lincoln didn’t move.

Michael dug his head into a pillow and thought he might die. “I slept with a hard on.”

Lincoln rested his weight on his knees, his thighs nudging under Michael’s ass. Michael whimpered at the dull press against his prostate. He’d had more than enough.

“Fuck me you sadistic bastard,” his curse was a whisper dragged over gravel.

Lincoln grunted, “All I needed to hear,” and thrust.

-

They both were too busy to go to work the next day.

END


End file.
